


Batsy, Batsy, Batsy...

by lovekaity



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman - Fandom, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (2012-2013), DCU, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alpha Bruce Wayne, Arkham Asylum, Asylum Escapes, Batjokes, Batman hates Joker, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Joker, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce lets his guard down, Bruce loves to hate The Joker, Bruce secretly loves The Jokers dirty talk, Bruce still manages to be gentle, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dominant Bottom, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Harley Quinn - Freeform, He calls Bruce Batsy, House break in, Joker has a Daddy kink, Joker loves Batman, Joker loves when Batsy gets rough, Kissing, Lap Play?, Lapdance, M/M, No really who the fuck is in control here, Past Joker/Harleen Quinzel, So does Batman, Spit As Lube, Struggle of power, Suicide Squad, Top!Batman, dcu - Freeform, is mentioned, mouth fuck, top!bruce, yay, yesss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovekaity/pseuds/lovekaity
Summary: In Which Mister J breaks into Bruce’s home, sweet-talks him and sexy time ensues.OrWhereas Bruce is very naive and Mister J is a master at getting what he wants.





	Batsy, Batsy, Batsy...

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolute trashy filthiness. Utter Porn Without Plot. Fight me. Oh yeah, Daddy kink. This is fucking just a lot of Batjokes smut. Shameless smut. Just a bunch of Hate Sex. Hella long and it gets dirty as a motherfuck. I hate myself, too. 
> 
> Oh yeah.
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr. Connect with me at love-kaity.tumblr.com! My ask is always open!
> 
> Enjoy & I love feedback so! x

And even if Joker’s intentions were fueled by his admiration(?) for Bruce, he would’ve never guessed it. To Bruce, J was just one of those people. The Bad Guy(s) with no sense of empathy for anything. He was just one of those people who found it hard to do anything selflessly. There was always some ulterior motive behind their actions.

 

So it didn’t take long for him to decode Joker’s plan. More or less, the plan wasn’t really anything of great stature, it was just some sadistic game Joker had thought up when he was bored and wanted to get underneath Bruce’s skin. It started off like this:

 

Bruce had woken up for a regular schmegular Monday, you know, standard procedure. Everything went great, for the most part. He had honeyed peanut butter toast, coffee and he didn’t really have to deal with much idiots throughout the day. 

Lunch was ace at some cafe Lucius had recommended and by the end of the day, he wasn’t very spent. He relaxed in the comforting confinement of his apartment, the dull chatter of the television lulling him to sleep. Crime fighting seemed to be the last thing on his mind today as Gotham City was at a bit of a standstill. Most criminals had been caught and other potential attackers sent out petty threats, nothing too major. 

 

Bruce figures they’re too busy trying to put together a master plan to ensue any big attacks or any attack at all yet. The most he can do is brace himself for the assault that’s bound to take place in the (near) future. 

 

Doctor Phil is barely enough to keep Bruce awake and a man, usually alert, falls asleep in no time, the day’s little activities proving to have a bigger toll than he thought. He figures he’s been out for about half an hour when a knock sounds on his door. He stirs and rubs his eyes, the glare from the television half blinding him. Dark has fallen and the full moon’s light glow peeks through blackout blinds.

Another knock comes and the tall man lifts himself from the embrace of the sofa. He checks his watch, 11:45 pm. It’s not very late but nonetheless, he was not expecting any visitors. Could it be Lucius? Or Alfred? On his night off? No. Or maybe even one of those polite new techs coming to finally pick up on his offer of coffee? Okay, maybe that last one was a bit of a stretch, but still.

 

Yawning, he strolled over to his front door and began to unlatch the door. Looking back maybe unlocking his door without looking through the peephole wasn’t the best of ideas. When the door swung open enough, Bruce glared out into the yard of his house. 

Nobody. 

He rubbed his eyes again and then searched the front of his yard from his current standing spot as best as he could. Huh. Must’ve been the wind. Just as the door is about to fully shut, he hears the sound of glass shattering. 

 

Instinctively he turned behind him and set off to go and investigate. Before he could, he heard a whistle coming from the door. His head snapped back to the door and a man dressed in black that looked a lot “fighty-er” than he was at that moment stared at him with a grin. “What the fuck?” Is all he could say before he punched the man straight in the face. 

The man stumbled backward and held his nose uttering an “ow”, before two other men showed up in the back of him, one the height of the first man and the other about three inches taller. Bruce turned on his heel. He ran through the corridor and into his den where his sliding door had been broken. A rock stood amidst the broken glass and he huffed. Proceeding with caution he stealthily moved into the kitchen where he rushed to the drawers. 

 

This may’ve not been the best time to forget where he stashed his emergency firearm. He searched through the drawers quickly, stuffing a chef’s blade into the band of the sweatpants that hung ultra low on his waist and weeding through the other utensils. Upon crouching to the lower cabinet underneath the sink, his fingers stumbled upon the metal death deliverer and just as he struggled to grasp it, he let out a frustrated sigh. When his long fingers finally managed to wrap around the stubborn thing and he prepared himself to return to normal height and battle the intruders, he felt a cold, sharp thing rest at the back of his neck. 

 

Fuck.

 

“Batsy, Batsy, Batsy.” The chilling yet familiar voice came. “I’ve missed you. Have you missed me?”

 

Bruce swallowed and shook his head. “Escaped Arkham again, I suppose.”

 

“Oh, why do you always have to be a sourpuss?” Bruce could picture the ridiculously wide grin on his attacker’s face as his fairly sinister laugh sounded. “Why couldn’t I be let out on good behaviour?”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“Straight to business? Why? No chit chat? No catch up sesh?” The man asked.

 

“Oh, excuse me if I’m not in the mood for a catch up sesh after I’ve been bamboozled by three men and I currently am being held at gunpoint.” 

 

Joker’s smile faltered a bit then, but not out of sympathy, out of pure theatrics. “Oh, I do apologize for that. You know I’m a bit of a drama queen. My entrance always has to be perfect.”

 

The gun twitched at the back of his neck again. “You broke out of Arkham just to play games with me? Shouldn’t you be out bringing chaos down on Gotham; you know, robbing banks, screwing old ladies, terrorizing families until I scoop down and send you back?”

 

The Joker chuckled again. “That’s right. While all of that sounds like a boat load of fun, I have a better idea.” He tapped the gun against Bruce’s neck. “Come on, big boy. Get up and do what I say and I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

 

Bruce really didn’t have time for games. He barely missed Joker. It was good to have less to worry about whilst he was away, all straight-jacketed and needled up. He’d almost gotten used to the psychopath not being on the streets.

 

It made the world feel better, even if for a moment, the Joker was gone. It made Bruce sleep better knowing that Gotham was a slightly better place without a crazy clown with cheap hair dye and overdone makeup running around terrorizing citizens. It didn’t hurt for the murder count to be down (and stay down) for a few. But just as he knew better, Bruce had become accustomed to a life without the maniac and against his better judgement, he’d relaxed. Now he was paying for it. 

 

With a sigh, Bruce returned to his normal height and the gun slid with every inch he took back. The mouth of the gun rested at the small of his back when he finally stood up straight. “What? You’re not going to face me? I’m beginning to think you really didn’t miss me at all.”

 

“Joker, I do not want to play your-”

 

“Face me!” His voice came more demanding and shrill. Bruce had no choice as he turned to face the smaller man. Yeah. He was definitely as he remembered from his hair to his clothing choice. He wore a maroon jacket, buttoned as if to purposely reveal some of his chest, black slacks and shoes Bruce didn’t care well enough to take in. He wore purple gloves and had that menacing grin lined off with red lips. 

 

It wasn’t only the villain, the three men also stood behind him. “Gentlemen, show Batman to a seat.”

 

And Bruce didn’t need any help. After all, this was his house. He knew where the chairs were. But Joker wanted to play and Bruce wanted to abstain from getting hurt more than he had to tonight, or even at all. He let the men take him to one of his less comfortable chairs and tie his hands behind the chair and either of his legs to one leg of the chair. 

When Joker, whom was watching intently, deemed the restraints good enough for his liking which indeed was right on the edge of causing Bruce pain but not quite, he ordered the men to seize. They stood with hands in front of them behind Bruce, in the shadows of the room. The only light was the moon’s iridescent glow shining through the blinds Joker now stalked over to open slightly more. When he found the light scheme he wanted, he clasped his hands together, one bare and one gun clad. The small man smiled a toothy grin and began strides towards Batman. “Since you want to be straight to the point, Batsy. I’ll give you the quicker rundown of things.” 

 

Joker placed his bare hand on Bruce’s face. “I’m bored. And I,” he stretches the ‘I’ for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. “Wish to have some sort of fun in my own, of course, sadistic way. You know that, the way I do. I’ve been locked in Arkham for a little over, what, six months? Yeah, six, thanks to a certain somebody.” His eyes locked with Bruce’s as he sang that last part. He rocked his head from side to side. 

“They shot me up with a bunch of crazy drugs, they fed me animal shit and they assigned me to shrinks who thought I was some kind of interesting experiment. There was one specific shrink I remember, she was one crazy bat. Crazier than me even,” J said and he casually sunk down on Bruce’s lap, straddling him. “Can you imagine it? Falling in love with a cold, hard, piece of stinking filthy, psycho trash like me? Who does that?” He laughed, then his face went straight again. “Nobody does that, Batsy. You don’t fall for an idiot like me.” He licked his lips. “In fact, my characteristics, my body language, the things I do… are meant to repel people. I don’t draw people in. But, me oh my, this woman. The definition of badass. Talk about cold blooded.” He shook his head with another smile. “You don’t want to hear about her though. I didn’t fuck her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

 

Actually, Bruce didn’t know what to think. He just knew, the Joker was in his house at eleven in the night, on his lap, telling him about his experience in the loony bin. He could barely stay calm. “I did not fuck Harleen Quinzel. I may’ve slapped her on the ass a couple times but that’s it. That is it, Bat. I’m not that psycho.”

 

“See, when you talk about fucking someone,” Joker put his pistol up to Bruce’s face, lining his five o clock shadow. He ran it along his jawline, the slope of his nose then stopped at his mouth. “That’s something intimate. It should not be taken for granted. It should be a preposition, a gift if you will, something you cherish.” He doesn’t shove it in his mouth like Bruce had began to think he would. He just lightly brushed over his lips with it and dragged it among his bottom lip so that Bruce could taste the aluminum. The thing was cold against Bruce’s mouth and he tried to focus on that more than the fact that Joker kept adjusting himself on his lap. “I don’t mean like that gooey, teenage first time bullfuck either. Don’t think I’m getting all sappy about making love or whatever you people call it nowadays. I’ve never been one to fall bait to the sweetness of a guy giving a girl a ring to go steady then fucking her brains out missionary style in her pink bedroom whilst her parents are out disco dancing, no, I’m talking about real life fucking.”

 

“Joker,” Bruce really wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He was sort of weary of saying ‘get to the damn point’ because, well, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know exactly what the point was. Also, the barrel of a fucking pistol was halfway in his mouth and it was being wielding by the fucking Joker. 

 

A string of “shh”’s fell from the Joker’s mouth as his face dipped closer to Bruce’s. He tapped the gun on Bruce’s teeth twice as if to taunt him or shut him up, he couldn’t guess. Bruce didn’t care that he was telling him to shut up or if he was taunting him anyway though, because he was not going to shoot him. Joker definitely would not kill him. At all. “Hush, hush, hush. I’m not finished. But I guess I could wrap this up so that we can get to it.” Joker sighed, his gravelly voice ringing in Bruce’s ears. “Look, sugar. I haven’t gotten off in a long fucking time. And I’ve been thinking of ways to make you pay for shoving me in that shitbox for a longer time than I could cope. I think I know a way you can help me and I can help you.”

 

“What?” It fell out of Bruce’s lips, past the barrel of the gun and into the air. Was he serious right now? Was he really implying what he thought he was?

 

Joker slowly removed the gun from Bruce’s mouth and called to one of his guys to retrieve it and give him a phone instead. “I’m gonna cut to the chase,” his eyebrows raised and his grin widened. “I want you to fuck me.” Bruce’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Am I really that unattractive?”

 

Then, Bruce burst into a fit of laughter. This had to be a joke. This had to be an absolute dream. Had to be. Unless it wasn’t. Bruce’s chuckles died down as his gaze shifted back to Joker. His face fell flat and alarmed. “You’re not serious.”

 

Joker held Bruce’s face in his hands. “Oh, but I am. I am. I want you to fill me up and fuck me.”

 

“Fuck. No. No way. Are you fucking-” Bruce huffed then. “You’ve got to be fucking me.”

 

“Oh, I will be, Batsy.” Joker said. 

 

“In your fucking dreams, Joker.” Joker’s eyes fluttered at his use of his name again. Then, his smile widened.

 

“That’s just because you can’t see it the way I do. You save your precious and I get my personal satisfactions and deeper.” He said, shuffling on Bruce’s lap. If he did that one more time, as much as Bruce fucking hated to admit it, he was going to get hard.

 

And he did. He shuffled again, again, then once more and Bruce’s eyes began to flutter, then threatened to roll back until Joker’s words truly sank. “Wait, what? My precious?”

 

Joker’s face beamed then. “Oh, yes,” He suddenly brought the phone up to his sights and did a quick swipe. He smiled marvelously as he showed the phone to Bruce. There was Alfred, tied up with two men surrounding him who looked something like the three that were currently in his living room. It was a video. One of the men, whispered something to Alfred, who didn’t look very afraid, just shaken by the whole thing. Then shortly after, Alfred’s mouth gaped.

 

“Uh, B-Batman. Just do as he says. No matter what it is. It’s okay. I’m okay. I’ll be fine. They haven’t hurt me. Just do what you must.” Alfred’s voice came through the device. Bruce’s eyes watered a little at the sight of his beloved companion in such a devastating position. He wasn’t going to cry or anything- it just sort of hurt. He shook his head as his sight returned to the man in front of him. Once Joker figured Bruce had gotten the gist, he slammed the phone into the tile of the living room. 

 

“You’re sick.”

 

“I know!” Joker exclaimed.

 

“I don’t dance with the fucking devil.” Bruce said. Joker just stared at him when he said that, none of them quite ready to say anything yet. And when Bruce’s gaze flickers from Joker’s eyes to his red stained lips, even for only a second, he hates himself for it. “Joker, what- what you’re asking me for is… I can’t.”

 

“You can’t.” Joker mocked, repeating his words. “It’s a simple bargain, Batface. Take it or leave it.”

 

“Are you threatening me?”

 

Joker gasped. “Oh, God, no. Just making the transaction clear. Batman, I’m a man of… great stature. I know what I want when I want it and who I want it from. I’m always sure of what I want, Bat. And,” He did a stupid little grin then, his eyes barely open and his teeth shining. “I have no problem begging for it. If that’s what you want.”

 

It’s official. Bruce fucking hates himself. On that last part, his cock twitched inside his sweatpants against the friction of Joker’s ass pressing on him. He swallowed and Joker inhaled. “Oh,” He said with a satisfied tone. “That is what you want.”

 

Bruce can’t find his words. “Fuck. You want me to beg you.” Come on, Wayne, say something to this freak. “Well, alright.”

 

Joker cleared his throat. He looked at his men who Bruce could only guess were feeling very uncomfortable right now. He doesn’t know if they felt it on the level he did though. “Gentlemen. The room, please.”

 

“Yeah, boss.” One of the men answered and they sounded almost relieved. Bruce heard the scurry of feet and a door shut. It wasn’t the front door though. J’s men would never completely abandon him. 

 

J looked at the man below him, clothed in a white t-shirt and perfect grey pants that swam on his waist. His hand flew to his neck and like the tease he was, he grind up against him, slowly but obviously dragging his ass along the man’s lap. “Bats, I-I don’t know what more to say. I just…” He pushed deeper on the man. “Nobody else can give me what I want. I can’t just have anybody inside me. I want you. Oh, please won’t you fuck me? I haven’t had anything in a long fucking time and while I was away,” Bruce fucking gulped as the man spoke. His voice lowered with every word. “They put me in a straight jacket and some of the staff thought it was because I wanted to hurt myself but,” The shorter man dipped into the bigger man’s neck and breathed a trail up to his ear. “It was because I wouldn’t stop touching myself. I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I couldn’t stop thinking of the way you threw me into the wall when you caught me and how you pressed against me when you handcuffed me, I-I couldn’t stop. I fucking need it. Only you.”

 

And God fucking damn it, as much as he wanted to push the man off of him, his restraints wouldn’t budge. Whilst he tried to free himself, he started to wonder as his dick swelled more in his pants if he actually wanted to push him off. And fuck, he hated himself more. “Get off me. What you’ve asked is… is… fucking…”

 

“B-but, Batsy, you’re so hard.” The green haired man taunts, staring into Batman’s warm brown eyes. “Don’t you go feeling bad about it either. I am, too.” He further grinds up to prove his point. The Joker’s cock meets Bruce’s abdomen and he could just scream right there. “You know you want this. You know you want me. You have to have me, Bats, you just have to. I know you’re angry at me right now. I know you want to strangle me. You can, too. You can take your anger out on me. Please, please, please. Pretty please. Please do it.”

 

Bruce’s mind was on overload. His body and mind weren’t on the same page even though they desperately were begging to be. It was nice to know J wasn’t the only one begging. He felt sickened by the clown atop of him but even more sickened at the bulge in his pants. He felt sickened at the fact that he liked the way the clown felt atop him and how he could picture the usually fearless, confidant man, a blushing, sweaty mess below his bigger body.

 

He liked the way the man was so naturally pale and so easy to bruise. He wanted to wrap his hand around his throat and leave purple marks there for everyone to see. He wanted it. That’s why when Joker pushed on his erection again, he let out a groan. It was embarrassing and without a doubt, the worst thing that he’s ever omitted. A string of “fuck”’s fell from Bruce’s mouth as he threw his head back against the chair. “You like that?” Joker’s voice came again. “Do you like it? The way I’m grinding on you? You love it, don’t you?”

 

“Fuck.” Is all that came out of his mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

 

“Oh, I know, Batsy. I know.” 

 

“Fuck you.” Bruce said, gasping for air at the friction. His cock was painfully hard now. “Fuck, if- if I do this. If I fucking do this, swear to God you’ll let him go. No injuries, nothing.”

 

“I swear.”

 

“And you go back to Arkham.”

 

“I will.” He said it without a second thought. “I will. You can escort me yourself, I promise.”

 

“This is disgusting.” Bruce said and Joker did his stupid little grin again. The man was fucking nuts. But he was a businessman whom was all about his business. If Bruce didn’t follow through, he’d slit Alfred’s throat in a minute and probably still make Bruce cum. Bruce shook his head. “Untie me.”

 

And Bruce knows it’s not out of trust the clown smiled and hopped off of his lap and got to untying the restraints. Bruce noted the damp spot on the grey fabric of his pants and he knew J took pride in that. Because after all it was him who got Bruce that way in the first place and Bruce was fucking Bruce. Just anybody couldn’t make him hard. He’d had his enemies come onto him lots of times, even female counterparts had come onto him and he’d been in various positions and still his cock couldn’t even find the audacity to twitch. But here, underneath a man whom he couldn’t bear the sight of, he was on the verge of flustered.

 

In the midst of cutting the restraint on Bruce’s hands, the last one, Joker looked up at him with hooded eyes and a semi smile. “You’re not going to kill me right?”

 

And Bruce chuckled. He didn’t answer, so Joker untied the rest and the rope fell to the floor. Joker laughed and clapped his hands as he stood back up. “Ta-dah!” He exclaimed, a grin present on his face. Bruce flexed his now free limbs and rose up from the chair. Joker watched as he rose and something in the back of his head ticked. It sounded something like the control he’d now lost over the situation. Bruce eyed the pale man as he began to walk closer to him.

 

“P-please.” Joker stuttered, and without letting another beat pass, he dropped down on his knees. “Will you fuck my mouth?”

 

And Bruce knew just why Joker wanted it. He wanted it so that he could say Batman, the goody savior, took control and dominated him. He wanted it to say Batman isn’t always sweet and isn’t always good. He wanted it to say Batman lodged his cock down his throat.

 

And he would get it.

 

Bruce palmed himself for a brief moment before he stripped off his pants and was left in boxers and God, Joker just wonders how he had on any underwear. As if to mock him, Bruce pulled out his dick and ran his hand up and down it before looking at J. J’s mouth gaped and he looked almost smitten by the thing. “Ohhh,” Joker said and his eyes struggled to stay open, almost as if the euphoria was too much to handle. “Please, Batsy.” He crawled closer to the man putting his hands together as if pleading. “Please. Please.”

 

Once he’s close enough, Bruce wrapped his hand in the man’s mess of green hair and shoved him so close to his cock that the head hung just out of his reach. “If you bite me, I’ll slap the fuck out of you.”

 

The pale man laughed. “Oh, you know I’d love that.”

 

“Open.” Bruce demanded and like the puppy he was, Joker’s mouth fell open. He pushed forward and Bruce let him. His tongue was warm, wet and velvety on the tip of his cock and Bruce couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled back into his head.

In this vulnerable state, his grip on the green hair loosened and Joker fell forward even more, engulfing more of Bruce’s cock. J’s mouth was hot as it closed in around him, his tongue lapping the underside of it. Joker produced more spit to slick the base and began to stroke it. Bruce let out a moan and to this, J’s cock twitched happily. He bobbed a little as if he didn’t know the exact pace Bruce wanted and he was testing the waters. After all, in fear of this, he did tell Bruce to fuck his mouth. Well that’s not really why. He just likes aggressive cock in his mouth.

 

“Fuck,” Bruce said watching Joker remove his mouth from off his cock, spit connecting the two even after they’ve been separated.

 

J, out of breath, stuttered, “D-daddy, fuck it.”

 

And Bruce has never ever been called that before. 

Not even once.

But something inside him clicks when he hears it. He grabbed his hair again and bucked into his mouth with force and that was when he knew Joker had won. At this, J’s eyes fluttered and he made a guttural sound. Bruce closed his eyes and fucked into the smaller man’s mouth, thrusting again and again, slow then hard then slow again. At one point, he slowly pushed his cock all the way in Joker’s mouth just to see how far it could go. It went all the way. In fact, it left lipstick right above his cock and a little stain on his balls. As he fucked the clown’s mouth, the man jerked his own erection with his eyes a flowing mess. 

 

When Bruce finally comes to, just as he feels like his orgasm could be sneaking up on him, he yanks Joker’s head off of his cock. He pants as he pulls the man up to his feet and internally is sickened by how natural it is to please himself (and him) by doing what he wants. 

 

He stares into Joker’s green eyes and then begins to unbutton his shirt, but not all the way. He then brings J closer to him by pulling him by his belt buckle.

He takes off his belt and unbuttons the pants. He then steps further from the man, slipping his hand into his pants and grabbing his erection. He pulls him again. He pulls him more and more until one hand is firmly on J’s cock and the other on his neck. 

J can’t do it though. He can’t be this close and not do anything. He collides their mouths. His ruined red lips press against Batman’s and his kisses him. It’s hungry and strong and when he opens his mouth a little is when Bruce kisses him back.  
It’s to the point, open mouthed and wet.

 

He sucks on his tongue like a bad habit and then he yanks him by his hair to look at him once more. J notices Bruce loves to pull on his hair. “Can I just say,” J slurs, drunk off the moment. “For a man that seems so dominant I find it pathetic you haven’t marked me yet.”

 

Bruce swallows, his head feeling like it’s been set on fire. His grip on J’s hair loosens, fingers still entangled in the green mess. Bruce takes a moment to breathe, closing his eyes.

 

When they flutter open again, he presses his mouth to the shorter man’s neck. He kisses him all the way up to his ear. “The only thing pathetic is the fact that you still have on your clothes.” He sucks on his earlobe. “In fact, it begs the question if you even thought I would actually follow through with your ultimatum. It makes me think you wanted me to flake out.” Bruce’s grip tightens again on his hair. “Think again, baby.”

 

In a swift motion, Bruce turns the Joker around to face the coffee table, tackles him to the height of the table and braces him over it. He admires the curves of J’s ass.

 

With one hand holding J’s hands behind his back and the other running circles on his ass, Bruce has never felt more in control. “You know, J, they say power is a drug that can’t be unshaken. I used to think that true of the higher arcs of the world, but now I think it true of us all. Maybe thats all we want.” Bruce slips off J’s pants then shirt. “Power. Do you remember your first sip?”

 

“Oh I do, Batsy. I do.” He does his spacey smile again, the one with the slanted eyes and shiny teeth. “It’s just that I have a feeling this is your first sip.”

 

“This was never about making me feel powerless, it was about making me vulnerable then building me up so I’d be right where you wanted me.” Bruce’s large hands pace over the fat of J’s ass, itching to raise then land back fast.

 

Through dazed spirit, J chuckles lightly. “It isn’t every day that you get to see the biggest hero in the world confront his power, much less own it.”

 

“You disgust me.”

 

“You should be thanking me, Batsy,” He pokes his ass out just a little more. “I’ve made you realize your true self.”

 

Bruces mouth lifts at a corner. Then he says, “I didn’t need the help.”

 

“But wasn’t the push more beneficial?”

 

“I suppose so,” he marvels at the sight once more before slapping him on either side of his ass. He spreads him open wide, running a finger over his hole. Bruce knows it’s wrong but his dick practically has a mind of its own at this point. Its practically begging him, twitching up against the direction of the smaller man’s hole.

 

Bruce reaches a hand up to the Joker’s mouth, spread wide and open. “Spit.”

 

He does. Bruce uses it to slick his cock.

 

Again he traces his hand back to his mouth and demands him to spit.

 

He does. Bruce uses it to slick his hole. He knows he could just slick it for a second, then push inside of him but no part of him desires to do that.

 

He pushes a finger in, then another. He continues like this until J is looser and more relaxed. “I suppose the push is always beneficial.” He murmurs.

 

The first stroke hits them both like a lick of fire, hot and bound to leave a mark.

 

Before he knows it, the only thought running through his mind is how fucking much he loved this feeling. 

Bruce had never exactly had sex with a man.

In fact, so much up to now Bruce had just been winging it. Doing what he thought was right combined with what he’d had done to him so many years ago in college. He didn’t exactly like it, the whole thing was awfully dubious and horrid- but wasn’t this ordeal so much the same? When so much years ago Bruce had been backed into a corner much like this one, from a jock. He wonders to himself if when the jock did this to him, he felt the magical wonders that cannot be fully described as flesh grips harder flesh.

 

Sheesh.

In fact, all Bruce can do is allow a string of “fucks” to fall out of his mouth as he glides in and out of the man. Joker doesn’t make it easier for him either, writhing like an entire slut, like he was made for this. And before soon, before they can switch into another position, Bruce feels his orgasm crawling down his spine, situating in his core and spilling out into the man’s body, filling him up like a fucking Twinkie.

 

A wave of relief washes over both men. 

 

None of those waves consist of any regrets.

 

Bruce fucking hates himself for it- maybe.

 

Maybe he hates that it’s over. 

 

Until he realizes he hasn’t made the Joker come. To that, the side of his mouth twitches as he comes off of his high struggling to stand to his feet. He realizes this isn’t over at all. Not until they both get off. 

 

But for now, he wipes his forehead clean and gazes down at his adorable pale, green haired Twinkie and says with a smile, “Now get the fuck out of my house."


End file.
